[ Quest: Righteous Relic Retrieval - COMPLETE!
Received: 50 XP, Church’s Blessing ]
I am certainly no adventurer. But I will admit it was a bit exhilarating to run out of the city, a vague sense of danger driving Lithia and I to keep going until we were out of breath. Luckily by that point we were well outside of the city limits. I thought a barbarian might have been disappointed by the lack of combat, but she assured me she found it more amusing then anything else.
This feeling however, was soon eclipsed by the excitement of the official [BLESSED] designation being displayed above my shop’s sign the next morning. In fact, the priest was so impressed with my quick work that he even commissioned some new robes for his church, provided I could promise only spiritual enhancements were added to the fabric.
It wasn’t as simple as a turning on a faucet of course, but there was a drip of actual customers that began to trickle in. Some appeared a little nervous, as Lithia had when she first visited, but none actually mentioned the rumors. A friendly demeanor seemed to win them over quickly, and so I acted as if I too, knew of no reason for concern. I did my best to listen to every customer and help them find something specific to their class.
By the weekend I’d sold enough to move up the Merchant quest line.
[Merchant Questline, Task 2: Sell 10 pieces of merchandise - COMPLETE! XP+ 20]
Yes, by Saturday night I was beginning to actually feel welcome. The potion shop next door was run by the most lovely old couple. They were always in by dawn, and knew everything about Windglen there was to know. After several friendly exchanges, they lent me a historical book with information on the different shops that had come and gone throughout the years, as well as the biographies of the nobility of the area, entitled “The History of Windglen.” They told me to pay special attention to the chapters on festivals and holidays, which I found very endearing.
As I was packing up that night, visions of sleeping in and maybe some gardening with my free Sunday had clearly distracted me from my cat, who was acting strangely. She was pawing at the door to the back storage room and sniffing profusely.
“What’s wrong Rune?” I went to open the door for her. Seeing she finally had gotten my attention, her tail snapped up and she led me to to the corner of the space full of neatly packed merchandise and some unused threads and materials.
A strange scent immediately hit me as I followed her, causing me to drop the loose cloth in my hand. It smelled like rotten meat! The stench was coming from the drawer I kept my flowers in. While plugging my nose, I cautiously opened it, not sure what to expect. Had my cat dragged in a mouse or something? That was unlike her, she normally searched for treasure and was more then content with the expensive fish I fed her.
But alas, a brief glance inside the drawer showed only flowers as expected. It was actually where the passion flower would’ve ended up, in my stock of dye materials. I started scanning the piles, before the sensation got stronger and I finally found the source - carrion flower.
I had never used the stuff myself. It smelled as bad as the name would imply. It was rarely used, mainly grown by farmers to catch flies or mixed in a defensive potion meant to ward off predators from livestock. So why was it in my flower collection? Someone would have had to put it there…
And there was one likely candidate.
Casting [Ignite], I lit the gross plant on fire and then threw the ashes into the rubbish bin. Rune could tell I was worked up, pacing as I stomped around the room, opening the windows to let in the night breeze clear out the nasty air. “You’ll have to stay here,” I told her. “I don’t want you to see me like this.” Appeased by this response, the cat went to sleep on a scarf. I would have to come back later to assess the smell was truly gone and hadn’t seeped into any of my pieces. I groaned at the idea of having to wash them. Was there a spell for that?
With my preparations done, I slammed my store door closed and marched over to the Brass Forge. It wasn’t far, but I had refrained from visiting yet for obvious reasons. Like me, they were clearly shutting down for the day, with the main lights out and the door mostly closed, but I saw a couple people behind the counter and one candle still lit.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
As the store was over three times the size of my own, it was quite easy to slip in and not be heard. As Enos had said, the shelves were full of mostly heavy armor, all very sturdy with price tags much heftier then my own. The family had also clearly unlocked a lot of aesthetic improvements, including impressive metal shelving and a group of mannequins highlighting featured items. They even had a few portraits on the wall with famous adventurers who had visited the shop.
I prepared myself for a dramatic confrontation, briefly stopping to decide what I was going to say.
“Did you see the numbers tonight? Awful!” Peeking from behind a shelf, I saw an older satyr leaning over his record book behind their large counter, looking frustrated as he pushed up his glasses. Enos was counting coins next to him and sighed.
“Father, it was just a slow day. You shouldn’t let yourself get so worked up,” he replied in a level voice.
“We’re running out of time for slow days,” the older satyr replied, sounded defeated. The relation between the two was clear, they might have been twins if not for the lines in his face, or the gray hairs his son did not have.
Enos stopped counting. I caught my breath, worried he had sensed me, but he kept talking. “We are on track to be clear by autumn. Summer is a very profitable season for us.” This made sense - it was a part of why I had decided to set up shop in late spring.
His father shook his head. “I fear we don’t have until autumn.”
“What do you mean?”
“Our ever gracious benefactor,” he continued, the sarcasm palpable, “Sent word today. If we don’t pay by the summer’s full moon, he’s going to start charging interest.”
Enos’ calm demeanor was finally slipping. “They can’t do that.”
“Son, when you take out a loan from questionable nobles looking to grab influence, they can pretty much do what they like,” his father responded.
“But, if they add interest, we will never reach the autumn deadline.”
“I know.”
Enos sat down next to his father, any interest in the day’s profits gone. “So, what must we do?”
“We…we may not be able to do anything. You know, I’ve heard his son truly is of a different temperament, perhaps -”
“I am NOT letting my sister marry that man’s son,” Enos insisted, his voice raising. “I don’t care if he’s a saint, she is not moving half way across the world to live in that wretched sea town. Kala will not give up her freedom to pay for this family’s continuous poor decision making!”
Neither spoke for a moment, and I eyed the door, trying to decide if I could get out as quietly as I came in, or if I would need a stealth spell. Now was not a good time for a confrontation, not to mention I was beginning to feel guilty for the amount of personal information I had overheard. I wish I had an invisibility potion on me.
“It doesn’t help we’ve got competition again,” his father said before I could make a move.
Surely no would come blame me for staying put after that.
“I’m dealing with the competition,” Enos said, his steady tone back. “She won’t last longer then the halfling.” I had to hold myself back from jumping out right then, but all that would do is I prove I had been eavesdropping, and there weren’t exactly any witnesses to stop a fight from starting. How did I know what these people were capable of? They clearly were making shady deals.
The older satyr groaned. "Do you mean your childish pranks again? That’s not what I meant. You know I don’t approve.”
Interesting, so he was acting on his own. That certainly lessened any budding sympathy within me that had begun to grow for him as they talked about their financial woes. I had started to think he had been pressured. I wonder if the father knew about the disgusting flower his son had left in my storage room.
“What then?” Enos asked, clearly annoyed.
“I didn’t mean competition on this street, although that doesn’t help of course. I mean for the Royal Charter.”
His eyes grew wide. “The crown is searching for a new vendor?”
“Yes, the last contract expired, and the king is seeking to make his selection soon. They should be announcing it any day, some sort of contest I believe? For the exclusive vendor for the royal family. Your uncle heard something while doing a delivery in the capital.”
I’d heard of the charter before of course - everyone had. Even as far from the capital as my family was, the crown had always sent out the invitation for our vendors to compete if they so desired. None did, as they weren't interested in the travel and competition was quite fierce, but my father had explained it was polite for them to do invite us regardless. It had slipped my mind just how close to the capital I was now, not even a day’s journey.
Enos sounded hopeful. “Some good news! I’ve heard the price is in the Fighter class, surely we could curry some favor there...”
“And the important thing is,” his father continued, “is that we know before everyone else in town does. We have the advantage.”
I grinned, beginning to make my exit as they returned to counting and closing up shop, the signs of dropping coins and folded chairs masking mye xit. They weren’t the only one with the advantage now. Looks like my Sunday would in fact be spent reading - my newly acquired copy of“The History of Windglen”.